


Seasonal Kissfective Disorder

by windychimes



Category: Bastion
Genre: M/M, a proper summary coming later i am Tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 18:47:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7373290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windychimes/pseuds/windychimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zulf and the Kid share a kiss for every season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seasonal Kissfective Disorder

**Author's Note:**

> for tumblr user meloghia

The first time is when pipe smoke has worked its way into Zulf’s bones, leaving him sluggish and warm. He tries to hand the pipe to the Kid but the Kid has already passed out. Typical. But there is something beautiful about the Kid, lying next to him—asleep on his back, limbs akimbo, mouth open, a strange vulnerability about him. The night air is hot and humid, a summer evening swallowing the sky above them, and the Kid has discarded his shirt due to the heat. Zulf pauses, admires the thin white scars on the Kid’s bronzed skin, looks to his lips. He shouldn’t, he shouldn’t, but he can’t resist leaving over and brushing his lips against the Kid’s. The Kid does not react; it is for the best.

The second time, he is one drink in and the Kid is three. The Kid is an affectionate sort of drunk tonight and he has arm wrapped around Zulf’s neck. It is not so unpleasant. Autumn has made its way across the Bastion and Zulf is thankful for the Kid’s warmth, his body always burning furnace-hot. The icy tinge of the fall will soon turn into the frozen hand of winter and Zulf wonders how often the Kid can keep him warm. He banishes the thought. The Kid is singing a Mason drinking song and laughing and there is something beautiful about his mouth in that moment, something irresistible, and Zulf can't stop himself from tilting his head and pressing their lips together. They do not speak of it in the morning.

The third time the Kid is skinning animal hides in the Forge. It is still early in the season but winter creeps upon them regardless, sending little snow flurries to dance in the air and cover the ground. Everyone gets a fur blanket, except Zia, who gets two, because she always gets extra, even when she doesn’t ask for it (and especially when she does). The Forge is the warmest spot in the Bastion and Zulf spends most of his days in there because he is still healing, he is always healing. They do not speak; Zulf’s learned the necessity and comfort of silence and he repairs holes in clothing. They are sitting too close together, closer than what’s appropriate, and Zulf wonders what it would be like to be closer. He swallows and ignores the thought, tries to concentrate on his sewing. But then the Kid is looking at him and he is looking at the Kid’s mouth and the distance between them grows smaller and smaller. The Kid kisses him then, with all the fervor and eagerness of someone who knows nothing of kissing but wants to learn very badly. Zulf teaches him.

The fourth time Zulf is weaving flowers into the Kid’s hair, drunk off the sun and life of spring. The Kid is laughing, more so these days; it is unbridled joy, it is the laughter of someone who has not laughed nearly enough and is making up for lost time. The Kid takes Zulf’s hand, interlaces their fingers; his hands are sunshine-warm and calloused, a temperate and texture Zulf is still getting used to. Kid opens his mouth to say something, pauses, kisses Zulf instead. Kid has always been more action than talk, and Zulf has learned to read him well. The Kid’s kiss is a question and Zulf’s is an answer, a resounding yes, a guarantee for more. Their kiss ends and the Kid is looking at him, so serious, and then he laughing again and hiding his face in Zulf’s neck. Zulf laughs too, and they stay like that the rest of the afternoon.


End file.
